Leave Me Behind
by HeadOverHeelsInHate
Summary: There's this girl. She's stuck in a comma and can't remember the past few years of her life. There's this boy. He's her best friend. He has been left behind. She doesn't remember him or the way that they were; inseparable. She's trying to pick up her life while he's trying to move on. Will one of them be left behind or will they make it together?
1. Chapter 1

******So I started yet another story, except this one will be a multichapter fic. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Steve: No copyright infringement intended. Maximum Ride belongs to James Patterson.**

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Leave Me Behind: Chapter 001

"She'll wake up," Nick Ride growled determinedly, refusing to back down. "She will."

The older man let out a sad sigh. "Nick, listen, I know you're upset, but it's been four months. She had internal bleeding and a concussion. Face it, she's not waking up," he said mournfully, his eyes filling with tears. "She's dead to the world. She's dead."

A deep vicious rumble rose from the younger man's throat. "Don't you dare give up on her. Don't you dare give up on your daughter like that," he snarled, looking away from him in disgust. His eyes rested on the limp and pale form of his best friend, his gaze softening instantly.

Both men turned to stare at the girl, her chest rising and falling faintly as the machine kept her alive. Her dirty blonde hair sprawled out around her head, framing her face. Her arms lay lifelessly on the bed at her side and the blanket was pulled up to just under her chin. She looked so peaceful, like she was just sleeping. Like she would wake up any moment.

Like she _could_.

"Please..." Nick begged. "Just give her another week. She's alive. I know she is. Please..."

He reached out and took her hand in his, holding it tightly as if at any moment she would slip away, and in reality, that was all too possible.

"She promised."

Jeb Batchelder looked at the boy fondly. He knew that this young man truly loved his daughter, that he would never give up on her. But even if she was alive, would it be worth it? Would she be damaged beyond repair? Would she even know who they were? Could she ever be the same?

He knew that Nick would go to the end of the earth for her. And that she would do the same, or she would have.

"Alright," he murmured, turning and heading out the door. "One week."

And then he was gone before he could even see Nick squeeze his daughter's hand in a relief and a genuine smile cross his face, one that hadn't been there since she'd been hit by that car. He didn't see him lean forwards and press his lips to her forehead. He didn't notice as Nick got up and followed him out. And he didn't hear him whisper to her just before he left;

_Wake up. You can't leave me. You promised me you wouldn't, Max._

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Nick was pacing back and forth in his room when he got the call.

He hadn't been able to sleep peacefully in the last while and there were dark circles under his eyes. He'd tried to move on, acting as if everything was ok, but he couldn't. Not with her in the hospital. And even his own home hadn't felt right with Max sitting there blasting her music to annoy him or just talking to him.

Nothing felt right.

But when the call came everything was supposed to fit back in place. She would come home and then maybe he would be able to forget all the guilt he felt. But he couldn't help but wonder if he would also be able to push away those feeling that had caused that guilt in the first place.

He'd barely notice Jeb's relieved tone of voice, or even the words said. All he understood was that Max was up. She was okay.

He'd raced over to the hospital as fast as he could without exceeding the speeding limits too much. His feet tapped anxiously against the tile as he waited for the elevator to reach her floor. As soon as the doors dinged open he was out and heading towards her room. The room he'd been waiting in just yesterday.

And there she was staring blankly up at Jeb. Nick barely noticed Jeb's distraught face as he drunk in the sight of Max with her brown eyes open and breathing on her own.

She was okay.

He grinned, relief washing over him. She would get better and things would go back to normal. Things could go on and life would continue on.

She glanced over at him, confusion covering her face as she took in him. She took in his tall dark figure clad in black. She noticed the tired, worn out way he looked. She observed the calm, collected way he held himself. But she was most aware of the searching look in his eyes, and she couldn't help but feel like he was looking for something that wasn't there. Like he was asking for something she couldn't give.

"Fang?"

Both men frowned as she spoke, not understanding the context.

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the brown and black mastiff of the younger man's shirt. She recognized the dog as Hagrid's boarhound.

The dark haired man blinked, still not understanding. He glanced at her father before looking back at her. "My name's not Fang," he said quietly.

She rolled her eyes again. "I know that," she muttered. "I'm talking about the dog on your shirt. He looks like the dog from Harry Potter. You know, Fang, Hagrid's cowardly dog."

Jeb smiled slightly, remembering his daughter's childhood fondness for J K Rowling's popular series. She had loved rereading the series and learning the different spells. He got up. "I'll go get the doctor," he said, exiting the room.

Max and Nick stared at each other silently for a while. He was trying to figure out what was so different about her, while she was trying to decide why he was here. Finally she broke the silence.

"Who are you?"

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**Good? Bad? Opinions? Ideas? What do you think his answer will be? Please review!**

**Peace the bob out!**

**-M**


	2. Chapter 2

**Y'hello. So this is probably confusing but I changed my name back to HeadOverHeelsInHate. FakeAndFailing just didn't look or feel right. Plus this was my original name and its more unique.**

**I also changed my profile picture. The explanation is on my profile if anyone cares.**

**Steve: No copyright infringement intended. James Patterson owns Maximum Ride.**

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CHAPTER 002

A classmate. A colleague. A roommate. A friend. A best friend. He had been so much to her. Could still be so much to her.

The possibilities ran through his head as he stared down at her, unsure. He didn't want to pressure her in to anything. He wanted... he wanted to be there for her, in whichever way she wanted him to be. He wanted her to know that she could depend on him, that he wouldn't hurt her.

Not this time. Not purposely.

But he didn't want to make her feel as is she had to act friendly towards him, as if they had to be friends or best friends. She could move back in with her father or change universities if she wanted, but he would be there when she needed him.

So he just shrugged, saying, "Whatever you want me to be."

Max frowned, not expecting that answer. She did have to admit it was a pretty good answer, although she still did want to know exactly who and what he was to her. But she decided against bossing him around and just accepted it, at least for the time being.

"Alright. You'll be Fangboy."

He remained expressionless all but for the small, tight smile he gave her, nodding. "And you'll be... Max." He wanted to say that she would be _his_ Max, but she wasn't his to claim. He had no right to. She was a free spirit and it was he wouldn't or couldn't hold her back. Not when he'd held her back from so much.

Max snickered. "No duh," she grinned. "My name _is_ Max, you know?"

He nodded. "I know. I've known for a long time. But, I ask you this, who is Max?" he said seriously, despite the small smirk quirking up one corner of his mouth.

She gaped at him, unable to respond. She couldn't understand why he would ask such a question. She was Max. Daughter of a scientist and a veterinarian. Older sister to a crazy teenage boy. She was a university student and a friend to many.

But she didn't know exactly who she was.

She was sure that at one point she had known, but now none of it made sense. She felt as if, before she had lost her memory, something had happened that changed her view on the world, that made her unsure of where she stood.

Looking down, she studied her clasped hands, trying to work it out. Her eyes ran over the soft contours of her hands as if the held the answers beneath her skin. But as hard as she looked, she still didn't know.

There was a rattling of small metal links matched with a rustling of material as the curtain around her bedside was drawn back, revealing a blonde haired middle aged man standing next to her father.

"Hello, Ms Batchelder. I'm glad to see you're awake. I'm Dr Abate. I'd like to just ask you a few questions, if you don't mind," he said.

Max blinked and nodded, but her attention was focused on Nick as he slipped away down the hall and out the door without so much as a goodbye

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_Retrograde amnesia_.

Those two words echoes in her head blankly as she stared at the curtain wall across from her.

She wouldn't and couldn't remember the events prior to the accident. The doctor said that was usual, and that though there was no cure from retrograde amnesia, she would regain her memories in time.

But it scared her, not knowing what had happened to her. The doctor said that she'd been out late at night when a drunk driver swerved and hit her, but she knew that wasn't the full story. She wanted to know why she was out so late. Her father refused to tell her though, saying that that was between her and the Fangboy.

Max wasn't sure what to make of the Fangboy. He obviously knew her quite well and cared a lot. He seemed like the type of guy that a stranger wouldn't trust, but the look in his eyes told differently. His eyes told of compassion and pain, of anger and love, of self doubt and guilt, of wistfulness and a resolve against it.

It scared her how much she could read in his eyes. They were just eyes after all, really dark, beautiful eyes in fact. But she couldn't help but wonder which of those emotions were directed towards her.

He seemed like the type of guy who didn't trust easily, but once you had his trust you were forever in his heart, at least that's what she thought. She figured she could get used to him.

But when her father had said that why she was out so late was for Fangboy to tell her, it made her suspicious of him all over again._ What did he know? What did he do?_

And her father had left too soon after Dr Abate for her to have any time to guilt him in to telling her. Instead she was stuck not knowing.

She really wanted to know though. She already didn't know a lot of stuff that she should have known and she would have liked to fill in some blanks.

Growling slightly under her breath, she sunk back in to her pillows and tried to empty her mind, but it was to no avail.

Empty thoughts swirled around in her head, and she kept pulling up blanks.

Finally getting sick of it, she dragged herself out of bed. Her nose wrinkled in distaste when she caught sight of the short hospital gown, feeling the cool air on her bare legs, making the unshaven, course hairs on her legs stand up. Her back was open and she was sure that if someone were to stand behind her, they would see her cotton underwear.

Glaring around the room, her eyes searched out the extra hospital gown she was allowed to wear resting on the nightstand. She immediately grabbed it and wrapped it around her body backwards, tying the strings together over her stomach.

A hand went to her hair, her fingers tangling in her hair as she tried to free her hair of all the knots. She wasn't quite sure why she was bothering, but she felt as if after four months of being your typical sleeping ugly after being hit by a car, she didn't want to look totally horrid once she stepped out of the room.

Once she felt satisfied, she carefully took a step towards the curtain opening, her bare feet shuffling against the cold floor. She limped slightly, wincing as her knee gave out for a second.

She looked down at her leg, trying to find what was wrong. But the moment she looked down, it was obvious. A long healed pink scar stretched from her knee to mid calf. She figured she must have either broken her leg or got it sliced open when she was hit, and that, plus not walking or using her muscles for a few months, would have easily made her strength weaken.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. She hated being weak. Even when she was younger, she could remember always wanting to be the one in control, never liking being told what to do. She liked being able to do things on her own, often refusing help.

She had never liked being a damsel in distress. It made her feel helpless and useless, two feelings she despised.

But after the accident, there was no doubt that she would need help. She would need a tutor to help her catch up in her classes. She would need help getting around. She would need help to get her memory jogged. And it was most likely that a therapist would be thrust upon her in order to 'help' her, but really just taking claim of any progress she made towards getting back to normal.

Clenching her hands angrily, Max took the two wobbly steps back to her hospital bed and flopped down.

She admitted defeat. She couldn't do this alone.

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**How was that? What did you think?** **What do _you_ think Nick 'Fangboy' did? Please review!**

**Peace the bob out!**

**-M**


	3. Chapter 3

**A thanks to all the people who have followed, favourited or/and especially reviewed this story!**

**Steve: No copyright infringement intended. James Patterson owns Maximum Ride.**

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CHAPTER 003

Nick sunk down to the floor, burying his head in his hands.

Try as he might, he just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Max didn't remember him. That he was just another face in the crowd. He felt like he had just lost a part of himself.

But it was Max who had lost a part of herself. She had lost her memories and who she'd been in those moments. And maybe one day she'd get them back, her memories and who she was, but it would never be the same. He'd wrecked that chance in one action, too caught up in the moment to give a damn.

He squeezed his eyes shut as they prickled with tears. It wasn't his fault she'd gotten hurt. Not really. But he couldn't help but lay the blame on himself, himself and the drunk driver.

Taking a shaky breath, he leaned his head back against the wall. He was out of sight from her room, couldn't even see the door. But he was in sight of the rest of the hospital. He didn't want to appear weak, but he figured it didn't really matter, at least not in a hospital where broken down, broken hearted people were probably a regular occurrence.

"Nick...?" a small voice questioned.

He sighed and forced a smile on his face as he looked up at the blue eyed little girl. She leaned over, staring at him as if she could see in to his soul while clutching her teddy bear to her chest.

"Hey, Ange. What's up?"

"Are you crying?" she asked, sliding down the wall to sit next to him. "She's up isn't she? And it's not good, is it?"

He sighed and shook his head, but he knew that Angel already knew the answer. She understood a lot of things an eight year old shouldn't. It had to do with how perceptive she was and all the things she'd gone through.

"She doesn't remember," he whispered hoarsely. "She doesn't remember me."

The little girl gave him a sad smile, taking his large hand in her tiny one. "Everything will work out," she comforted, meaning every word. "Things won't always be this hard. It will get better."

Nick said nothing.

He wanted to stand up and shout that it wouldn't. That Max would never remember him and he'd never get over her. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before the accident. But he couldn't. Angel didn't deserve to face his impromptu rant. She knew the world was a horrible, unfair place, but she also knew that there was hope.

The two of them sat there for a while. Neither spoke, they just let an understanding pass between them.

Finally, Nick stood up and pulled Angel to her feet alongside him. She grinned up at him, the somber mood gone as he ruffled her blonde curls. She glared at him playfully, and reached up to adjust her wig.

"Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her as she headed back to her room. "Zeph said he was bringing his girlfriend today. I want you to meet her. I bet she'd not even real. Remember last time?"

Nick chuckled and nodded, letting her lead the way.

In a way, he was glad things had worked out the way they had. Sure it wasn't what he wanted, but Max was alive and he had met a lot of inspiring people here in the hospital. People who would help him through whatever happened next.

**: : : : :**

"It's funny how death really snaps everything in to perspective," a gruff voice intoned.

Max groaned and rolled over, turning away from the sound. She wiggled her body slightly, snuggling deeper in to the stiff bed as she pulled the blankets tighter around her body. Her breathing returned to its slow pace as she started to drift off again.

"The question is, what was your realization?" the same monotone voice said.

Max sighed, sitting up. She scowled at the old man who sat close to her bed, his attention focused on the book in his lap. He didn't even seem to notice her, it was like he hadn't just spoken.

"Do I know you?" she asked, studying him.

His had a plain face, slightly wrinkled. His eyes flitted over the page of his book and he didn't look like he smiled much. He had a slightly hunched form but otherwise appeared to have excellent posture. His hands looked rough from past labour but he held the book gently. And a blanket was spread out over his lap. Overall, he looked like the type of person your eyes would skip over with a second glance, barely even registering he was there.

He glanced up, his simple brown eyes meeting her and he scanned her from where he sat with a disapproving frown. "No," he said bluntly before looking back to his book and flipping the page.

Max glared at him. He was in her room, at her bed, talking to her, yet he had the nerve to ignore her and act like she was a worthless ant under his shoe. "Why are you here?" she growled slightly, scowling.

He sighed and looked back up. Closing his book, he rested his clasped hands over on it. Max could just barely see the title reading '_When the Wind Blows_' by James Patterson from under his hands.

"To remind you that there is something important you only discovered right before you got hit by the car that you have now forgotten."

"How... how do you know me if I don't know you?" she stuttered, slightly creeped out.

"A rather concerned young man decided to use me as his psychologist," he said with a sigh. "He seemed to know you quite well."

"Fangboy? I mean... Nick?"

The old man nodded. "Yes, him."

"So... how do you know I discovered something important?"

He tilted his head to the side, pondering his answer. "I suppose that would be because I almost died a couple of times," he said.

Max watched stunned as he backed away, wheeling the wheelchair that she hadn't noticed before away. He turned expertly and continued to roll away.

"Wait!" she called out after him, watching as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view. "Who are you?"

But he didn't answer. Instead, a different voice answered her question, the voice of someone she hadn't even known was there.

"His name is Vince Martelli. He's one of those wise old crazy guys who should have been put in a senior's home a long time ago."

Max whirled around, her hands clutching the sheets to her body as she looked over to meet a pair of unfamiliar blue eyes.

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**So... How was that? Good? Bad? Not worth reviewing?**

**I think it's pretty obvious who the blue eyes dude is, but any guesses? And even better, who do you do you think I'm portraying Vince after? And what do you think of Angel? What do thou think of my Nick-to-Fang transitioning?**

**Peace the bob out!**

**-M**


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